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<title>Nandor the Relentless: Conqueror of Germs by certified_swamp_witch, doyoushipwhoiship, Nandors Wizard Hat (enter_the_gloaming), singing_to_shipwreck, TsundereClouds, walkwithursus</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348964">Nandor the Relentless: Conqueror of Germs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/certified_swamp_witch/pseuds/certified_swamp_witch'>certified_swamp_witch</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoushipwhoiship/pseuds/doyoushipwhoiship'>doyoushipwhoiship</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/enter_the_gloaming/pseuds/Nandors%20Wizard%20Hat'>Nandors Wizard Hat (enter_the_gloaming)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/singing_to_shipwreck/pseuds/singing_to_shipwreck'>singing_to_shipwreck</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsundereClouds/pseuds/TsundereClouds'>TsundereClouds</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus'>walkwithursus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nandor Relentlessly Conquers it All [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>What We Do in the Shadows (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Caretaking, Crack, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Round Robin, Sexual Humor, Sickfic, Vomiting, is it comfort when your himbo vampire is the one causing most of the hurt?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:28:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/certified_swamp_witch/pseuds/certified_swamp_witch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoushipwhoiship/pseuds/doyoushipwhoiship, https://archiveofourown.org/users/enter_the_gloaming/pseuds/Nandors%20Wizard%20Hat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/singing_to_shipwreck/pseuds/singing_to_shipwreck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsundereClouds/pseuds/TsundereClouds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Guillermo gets sick, and Nandor tries to take care of him the best way he knows how.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nandor Relentlessly Conquers it All [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>359</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nandor the Relentless: Conqueror of Germs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started as a one sentence crack fic prompt. That somehow became a round robin fic. And then that somehow became over 7k words of pure, indulgent silliness. Shout out to the amazing folks on the WWDITS Discord for participating in this project! Additional shout out to SalmonElla, who did these amazing drawings to accompany the fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/188603925@N04/49933549732/in/dateposted-public/">
    
  </a>
</p><p>Winters in Staten Island were cold and unforgiving. January in particular was the worst, a brutal thirty-day stretch that was colder than a witch's tit, if Laszlo's assertions were correct.</p><p>Despite it being the coldest night of the year, Nandor had still insisted that Guillermo bury tonight’s dinner. Shivering, Guillermo dug a hole in the backyard, pausing to clutch his jacket tighter around himself. The metal handle of the shovel didn’t even feel chilly against his probably-frostbitten fingers.</p><p>“¡<i>Mierda</i>!” he muttered to himself through chattering teeth. The ground was very nearly frozen, making it much harder to dig than usual. Each strike of the shovel’s point only dug what felt like an inch into the ground; thirty minutes of work had made scarcely any progress. </p><p>Guillermo rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm himself up. At least the subzero temperatures meant Sean would stay inside his house instead of wandering out to yell nonsense at him—although there was satisfaction to be had in yelling curses in Spanish at their dolt of a neighbor, who was thankfully monolingual (especially now that his brain had been turned into scrambled eggs). </p><p>Several more minutes passed before Guillermo finally broke through the frozen crust to the softer earth below. He gave a small cheer, his breath fogging the air around him, and kept digging at a breakneck speed. He was dying to be done with this and return to the warmth and safety of the house. </p><p>At long last, Guillermo threw down his shovel and grasped the nearby body of the ex-Circuit City security guard around the ankles. </p><p>“Rest in peace,” he said solemnly, awkwardly shoving the body into the hole he had created—though not before pulling their wallet out from their pants pocket. “Have to pay rent somehow…” he said with an apologetic half shrug. </p><p>If Father Miguel could see him now. He didn’t know what would be the biggest issue with the priest who had baptized him: the robbing or the whole dead body thing or coveting a vampire. It was truly a toss up, but most likely, it was the being a homosexual that would cause the good priest to flip his clerical collar.</p><p>Fortunately, filling a grave was much faster than digging one, and the mere thought of sitting bundled up in his room with a hot chocolate gave Guillermo the momentum to finish the job in record time. </p><p>By the time he trudged back into the house, his body was wracked with chills. He rushed into the library and struggled to start a fire, his numb fingertips barely letting him strike a match. </p><p>“I say, Gizmo?” called out Laszlo from somewhere in the house. “Did you finish cleaning up after that security chap?”</p><p>Guillermo groaned. "It's Guillermo, you mad pervert," he muttered darkly. </p><p>"What was that?" Laszlo called.</p><p>“Nothing!” he responded, inwardly cursing himself for being so loud. He couldn’t wait until sunrise so he could have the house to himself again. He rubbed at his temples as he felt a headache coming on.</p><p>Without warning, Laszlo appeared in the doorway of the library, totally nude.</p><p>Guillermo shrieked and grabbed the fire poker. Looking at Laszlo's leprosy-ridden penis, he almost felt sorry for the man. </p><p>"I say, the way you're holding that looks almost threatening. But you couldn't possibly hurt even a fly."</p><p>Looking guiltily at the poker, Guillermo quickly threw it to the floor. “Um…” he started, shyly. “Why aren’t you... Uh. Wearing any clothes?” He carefully averted his gaze away from Laszlo’s more delicate bits.</p><p>“My good lady wife and I have just finished a bout of lovemaking in our crypt. We need you to get in there pronto-tonto and clean the place up.” </p><p>“I’m not your familiar,” Guillermo bit out tiredly. The emerging headache had bloomed into a full-fledged migraine, his temples throbbing. </p><p>But resistance was futile. Laszlo continued as if he hadn’t even heard him. “There’s semen all over the ceiling, so you’ll need the big ladder.”</p><p>“Okay,” Guillermo acquiesced weakly, grimacing as his body protested the simple action of standing up from his crouched position near the fireplace. He steadied himself against the mantel as his vision blurred.</p><p>Locating his trusty cleaning supplies from the hall closet, Guillermo dragged the ladder up the stairs, wincing as every thump echoed in his head like a cymbal crash. He didn’t get paid nearly enough for this. He didn't get paid at all, actually, and he wasn't sure what amount of money he would find acceptable if he did. Right now, he felt envious of all of Nadja and Laszlo's past familiars. Being dead meant not having to mop vampiric...matter from the ceiling. Even barring the headache, he <i>might</i> die from sheer embarrassment. </p><p>Guillermo paused outside the doorway to Laszlo and Nadja’s crypt. It was worse than he had expected. The entire ceiling was covered in Laszlo’s viscous fluid, and if he had to guess, cleaning this up would take well over an hour. At least this was the regular vampire kind and not the ghostly variety. He gagged at the memory. That had been a real bitch to clean up. </p><p>Resolving to finish the task at hand as quickly as possible, Guillermo set up the ladder in the middle of the room, trying his hardest to ignore the throbbing in his head and the shivers that were still wracking his body. He pulled on the double thick rubber gloves he used just for these sorts of occasions and sighed. When he'd first signed on to be Nandor's familiar, he had imagined his role a lot differently. He certainly never pictured himself mopping up after a couple of horny vampires he didn't even work for.</p><p>Armed with his rubber gloves and a sponge, Guillermo climbed to the top of the ladder, the crypt spinning around him. Spots popped in his field of vision, and his hands grew increasingly numb. The last thing he saw was the goat Nadja so viciously hated before his vision turned dark, and he hit the ground. </p><p>____________________________________</p><p>"Nandor! Come get your little Gizmo!" Nadja hollered.</p><p>Laszlo nudged the prone familiar with his foot. "I think he's dead, my darling."</p><p>Nadja made a face. "Did he really have to die before he cleaned the place up?"</p><p>“What? What is it?” Nandor sounded supremely irritated, his voice drawing nearer. He walked into the room, his eyes darting to Guillermo’s prone position on the floor. “Guillermo,” he whined, frowning. “What are you doing on the floor there? Taking a nap in all of this… What is this?” he hissed. He lifted a boot off the floor, and the heel came away sticky. Nandor grimaced at the state of the room. Why did he have to choose to live with such disgusting perverts?!</p><p>“Are we certain he isn’t dead?” persisted Laszlo, ignoring Nandor’s question.</p><p>Nandor gaped at him. “Why would he be dead? What were you doing to him?” </p><p>“We weren’t doing anything to him!” Nadja said defensively. </p><p>“They really weren’t,” Nadja’s doll piped up from the corner. Three pairs of eyes darted toward her. Nadja made a face that shouted <i>shut up.</i></p><p>“Hey, everyone,” Colin said from the doorway, startling them. The other vampires gave a collective groan. “What’s Guillermo doing there on the floor? Taking a nap? You know, sleeping on the floor is surprisingly good for you. It might not be the most comfortable position, but the floor provides a lot of lumbar support. In fact, in some countries—” </p><p>“Stop trying to drain us, Colin Robinson! Nadja and Laszlo have killed my familiar!”</p><p>“We did not!” Nadja hissed at Nandor. “He did that entirely on his own, the stupid donkey.”</p><p>“Oh,” Colin deadpanned, eying Guillermo with interest. “Did you check his pulse?” </p><p>Nandor flashed his best blank, himbo smile and shook his head. </p><p>“Well, you have to check his pulse. Of course, you could go with the classic mirror method to check to see if he’s still breathing, but I’m guessing none of you keep a mirror handy,” he chuckled to himself. “Some people think that the best place to check for a pulse is at the wrist, but I myself am partial to the two fingers to the neck maneuver. Now, I’m not a doctor or anything, but—”</p><p>“Stop it, Colin Robinson! This is a serious situation!” Nandor pronounced through gritted teeth. “I would normally be able to listen for his pulse, but with all of the shouty shouty it is very difficult for me to hear!” </p><p>Colin walked over to Guillermo, carefully avoiding the stickiest parts of the floor. “Call me C-Man,” he spoke as he stepped, “but you’ve made a mess of this room.” No one laughed at the joke as Colin crouched down beside Guillermo. The three other vampires in the room waited with bated breath for his pronouncement. “Well, he’s not dead,” Colin said after a minute, his fingers pressed to Guillermo’s neck. “But he’s burning up.”</p><p>“Burning up!” Nandor exclaimed. “But there is no fire here. How could he be burning without any fire?”</p><p>“No, Nandor, he isn’t literally burning up. That’s just an expression that was popularized in—” he trailed off, withering under Nandor’s icy stare. “It means he has a fever.”</p><p>Laszlo chimed in, smirking, “My semen has been known to have that effect on people.” </p><p>Nandor made a face. “That is disgusting!”</p><p>“He was out back digging a hole tonight, right? It’s supposed to be the coldest night of the year. I’d guess that’s what did it.” </p><p>“So, what do we do?” Nandor asked, betraying his own nervousness. </p><p>“Oh, I know this!” Nadja exclaimed. “In my village, when we would get the fevers, we would burn the wing of a very vengeful crow down to a paste, make a poultice from it using fermented yak’s milk, and then rub it into the temples for at least 45 minutes. That will cure the fever. There is also a spell you must chant to expel the demons from his body.”</p><p>“Motrin would also work,” Colin added. </p><p>Nandor frowned. Usually it was Guillermo who would be sent out to fetch such things. He didn’t even know where to look for a… vengeful crow, had she said?</p><p>From the floor, Guillermo suddenly gave a soft moan.</p><p>Nandor rushed to his familiar’s side. “Colin Robinson! You are making it worse! All of your talking is draining his energy.”</p><p>“I can leave, then,” Colin grumbled. </p><p>“No!” Nandor insisted. If Colin left, they would surely soon be rubbing milky crow’s wing on his beloved familiar, and even if he didn’t know much about these things, he had a sneaking suspicion that would be futile. Plus, usually when Nadja talked about chanting, what she actually meant was shrill singing. “You must tell us what to do to heal him, Colin Robinson.”</p><p>“Well, getting him up off the floor would be a start,” said Colin. </p><p>Nandor bent down and picked Guillermo up with ease. He looked down at his shivering, whimpering little familiar and felt an alien feeling come over him. It left a strange ache in his chest to see Guillermo so weak. He was always a bit pathetic and weak, being a vulnerable human and all, but this was certainly worse than normal. </p><p>“Get out of my way,” Nandor snapped, walking briskly for the exit. Nadja and Laszlo parted to allow him through. </p><p>“You all right, old chap?” asked Laszlo, who had since put on a robe. “It isn’t… catching, is it? Whatever Gizmo has?”</p><p>“We are vampires!” Nadja scoffed. “We cannot become infected with whatever plague Guillermo has contracted.” </p><p>“How do you know that?” Nandor asked, suddenly terrified at the prospect of getting sick. In his panic, he dropped Guillermo, who groaned as his body hit the floor. “Oops. Sorry, Guillermo,” Nandor said sheepishly, bending down to pick him up once again. </p><p>“M-Master.” Guillermo reacted to the sound of Nandor’s voice, though through his fever, he wasn’t certain that there was anyone there.</p><p>“Ssh, it’s all right Guillermo. Do not fret. We will get this sicky-sickness out of you.” </p><p>“Just put him to bed!” Colin Robinson called after him.</p><p>“Right. Okay, here we go, Guillermo. Back to your depressing little room under the stairs.” </p><p>Guillermo let out a feeble groan as Nandor deposited him onto his cot with a thud. He curled up into a ball, visibly shivering. </p><p>“Colin Robinson!” Nandor shouted, panicked. “He is shaking! Is he having one of those eclectic seizings?” </p><p>“It’s epileptic!” Colin shouted back. “And no, he’s probably just cold! Put a blanket on him or something!” </p><p>Nandor yanked at the blankets that Guillermo was lying on top of. In response, Guillermo curled up tighter and held onto them with an iron grip.</p><p>“Guillermo,” Nandor scolded. “You have to let me put the blankets on you so you can stop your shaking! Don’t be so difficult!” </p><p>Guillermo groaned in reply. Now that they were alone in Guillermo’s room, Nandor could hear just how weak his heartbeat truly was, a faint, fluttering rhythm inside his chest. “Guillermo,” he said more softly. </p><p>Guillermo merely whimpered. Sighing, Nandor took off his cloak and draped it over Guillermo. Guillermo buried his face into the dark fabric, a small, satisfied smile spreading across his face.</p><p>Nandor bit back a smile of his own. “You can keep it if it stops your awful shivering. But when you are better, I fully expect you to disinfect it. Thoroughly.” A lightbulb went off in the dim cavern of Nandor’s head. He needed to get something to disinfect the house, in the chance that they could get sick, and he needed to fetch the pharmaceuticals that Colin Robinson had mentioned. </p><p>He did not care for all this fetching, like a mangy werewolf or a lowly familiar. However, as he watched Guillermo burrow further underneath his cape, he knew he would do anything to get those accursed germs out of his familiar. He would be relentless in his battle against them. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, to seek out this Sir Motown Colin Robinson spoke of.</p><p>It was a quick journey by wing to the pharmacy. It had been a longer mental journey for Nandor to remember if it was VCS or...VSC? CVS? He always mixed up these things. Usually he had Guillermo around to correct his O-AK's, but tonight he was having to make do without him. He was a vampire—he didn’t need to worry about the alphabet soup names humans used for their merchant houses. Even back in Al Quolanudar they had kept things much simpler. </p><p>Nandor stood at the door to the VCS, trying to use his powers of hypnosis to get the pimply-faced teenager standing behind the counter to invite him into the store. “Invite me in,” he murmured, making a gesture with his hand. “Invite me in!” he said a little louder, and the boy behind the counter startled. </p><p>“Uh, come in?” he called, going along with it. Damn Boomers were always so demanding at the store, and the last thing he needed was this giant goth man calling his manager. </p><p>Nandor crossed the threshold into the VCS. The large floorplan of the store seemed unusually overwhelming without Guillermo there to navigate for him. He picked up a handbasket and stared at the signs and displays. Asking for directions had always been a sign of weakness back in his country, but it was appearing more and more like he would have to do so now. </p><p>Nandor strode over to the cashier, who definitely didn’t get paid enough to deal with whatever shit this pale weirdo was about to dish out.</p><p>“I am looking for a Sir Motown,” Nandor proclaimed.</p><p>“Uhhh…” said the teen blankly. “We stopped carrying CDs like 5 years ago, dude.” Fucking tourists.</p><p>“CDs? No, I don’t want to listen to music right now! I need the Sir Motown whose job it is to lower the fevers.” </p><p>“You mean... Motrin?” the teen asked, filling in the blanks. </p><p>“Hm.” Nandor was sure Colin Robinson had said Sir Motown, but perhaps it was Motrin. “Yes, that is what I said.” </p><p>“Right, sure. That’ll be down aisle 7C, with the rest of the pain relievers.”</p><p>Nandor craned his neck in the direction the boy was pointing. “Wh-Which aisle?”</p><p>The clerk rolled his eyes and sighed. They weren’t that busy this time of night, anyhow. “I’ll help you.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Nandor flashed a disarming smile, which wasn’t very disarming, due to the sharp fangs and all.</p><p>The teenager tried his hardest not to look at his teeth. Body modifications were wild these days, it seemed, even with the older crowd. “So, you aren’t feeling well?” he asked, trying to make small talk as they walked toward the aisle. </p><p>“No, I am in excellent health,” Nandor sniffed, affronted. “It is my familiar. He has the plague.”</p><p>“Oh,” the boy said simply, unsure of how to respond to that. “I’m sorry about your… <i>familiar</i>,” he offered. </p><p><i>Familiar…</i>Was that an abbreviation for 'family member’? Or was it one of those alternative names people were always thinking up for boyfriend or girlfriend? Partner… significant other… familiar? And the whole ‘plague’ thing — was this old man really trying to make him a part of some weird role play scenario? He really needed to talk to his manager about getting off the night shift.</p><p>Nandor hummed and then hissed triumphantly as he came across the Motrin. He swept an armful of bottles into the basket as the employee stared on in horror.</p><p>“What else do I need, eh…” Nandor peered at the nametag pinned to the teen’s shirt. “J-Jo-<i>Oh.</i>” </p><p>It was a sign. This boy’s name was John. Perhaps the noble, graceful spirit of his beloved horse had been reincarnated in this teenage boy, who was now helping him in his quest to cure Guillermo. The boy scratched at one of his zits and made a face as it popped. Perhaps not. But this lowly human was going to help him restore Guillermo back to his full strength, so he couldn’t be all bad.</p><p>“Um, for the plague?” Human John asked.</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Nandor hissed. “Of course for the plague. My Guillermo is lying like a weak newborn kitten and you will help me to fix him!” He gestured, jabbing Human John in the chest.</p><p>“Maybe…” Human John trailed off, panicked. “Maybe some cans of chicken soup?”</p><p>“Like the Campy Bell’s?” Nandor asked. “Yes, I have heard of this. Lead onward, John, so that we might acquire the chicken soup.” It warmed Nandor to the depths of his being, to say the words ‘Lead onward, John’ as he had done so many times in battle with his horse.</p><p>The idea of eating Human John as he had once eaten Horse John was becoming more and more tempting, but he pushed that away. Even if Human John smelled delicious. Well, perhaps after Human John had helped him, he could get a snack for the road. He would need all his strength to fight the evil germ demons plaguing Guillermo.</p><p>Human John rolled his eyes skyward. No one on day shift was going to believe him. He’d definitely win this month’s game of ‘Weirdest Customer.’ (Human John was blissfully unaware that he wouldn’t be winning much of anything in the future, other than perhaps the ‘Nandor’s favorite snack of the week’ award).</p><p>“This way,” said the teen, and he led Nandor out of the aisle and across the store to the canned goods section. Nandor’s eyes alighted on the familiar red and white label, and he began scooping cans into his overflowing basket.</p><p>“I will also need something to pillage those teeny tiny germ warriors with as well.” </p><p>Human John squinted. “Lysol?” </p><p>“Lies-all! No, I want an honest product! Are you trying to sell me the snake water, Human John?” Nandor snarled. If Guillermo were here, he would demand that his familiar kill him.</p><p>“It’s... it’s just John,” Human John protested weakly. “And I think you meant snake oil? But that’s in the supplement aisle. Um, how about Clorox instead?” </p><p>“Will Sir Clorox kill the germs plaguing my familiar?” </p><p>“Just about 99.9% of them, yeah. Do you want a spray or the wipes?” </p><p>“99.9%!” Nandor exclaimed. “That is a noble amount! Even my best pillages only took out 98% of the villagers. Of course, I was never very good at maths, so it could have been closer to 97%. I will take all of your Clorox, Human John.” </p><p>“I’m sorry, sir, but we have to limit the sale to five per customer,” Human John said nervously. He did not want a repeat of the Pine-Sol incident.</p><p>Nandor gritted his teeth. Each moment spent talking to Human John meant another moment of suffering for Guillermo. This was worse than dealing with Colin Robinson. “Five will be enough, then, I suppose.” </p><p>Human John escorted him to the cleaning supplies section, where Nandor loaded his basket with exactly five bottles of Clorox disinfectant spray. When Human John wasn’t looking, Nandor slipped two more into his pockets for good measure. Finally he made his way up towards the cash register.</p><p>After ringing up the items, Human John said, “That will be—are you sure you want all that Motrin?” he asked, as the total rang up in the triple digits.</p><p>“Yes!” Nandor hissed. </p><p>“Right, well, your total, sir, is $136.54.”</p><p>“Yeesh,” Nandor stated, reaching for his pocket, only to realize that he had forgotten his money in the dish on the table in his room where he kept his money! The money dish! “Human John, I have forgotten my money in the dish on the table in my room where I keep my money. The money dish.” </p><p>Human John grimaced. He’d have to think of some way to explain the inventory loss, but anything to get this guy out of the store. “That’s okay, sir. You can just take it, on the house.” </p><p>“Why would I put them on top of the house?” Nandor asked, becoming frustrated with Human John. Horse John would have never wasted his time in such a manner. “I need them to help Guillermo!” </p><p>“I mean you can have them free of charge.” </p><p>“Oh,” Nandor said. Perhaps he would not eat Human John, as a sign of goodwill and appreciation for his assistance.</p><p>“Don’t mention it. No, seriously, please don’t mention it,” Human John said, handing Nandor his bags.</p><p>“Alright,” Nandor replied, feeling uncomfortable. He began to walk out of the store.</p><p>“I hope your boyfriend feels better soon!” Human John called after him. </p><p>Nandor stiffened. <i>Boyfriend?</i> The thought of Guillermo being his boyfriend should have disgusted him, but he found himself smiling at the idea as he began the walk back to the house. Normally, he would have transformed into a bat and flown back, but that was only possible when Guillermo was around to carry the bags. It would be far too difficult to hold all of these items with his tiny bat wings, and so he trudged on foot.</p><p>_______________________________</p><p>Nandor returned triumphant from the apothecary with the Sir Motown, numerous cans of Campy Bell’s, and five bottles of Sir Clorox’s disinfection spray. He immediately tore a can from the bag and ripped the cap off of it. Guillermo was awake when he entered his room, though he looked quite possibly worse than when Nandor had left. </p><p>“M-Master...?”</p><p>Nandor gave the room a good spray, causing Guillermo to cough violently. </p><p>“Guillermo! I am trying to disinfect your room! Stop with that horrid coughing,” he admonished, spraying another wave of disinfectant into the air. </p><p>“It’s the spray,” Guillermo explained, coughing again. “It makes it hard for me to breathe.” </p><p>“So step out into the hall!” Guillermo groaned in protest. Nandor sent him a very serious look. “Do you want me to kill the germs or not, Guillermo?” </p><p>Guillermo knew this was a battle he could not win. With another groan, he dragged himself out into the hallway, whimpering pitifully with each step. Nandor frowned, the sound tugging uncomfortably at his heart. “Guillermo, I do not care for that pitiful noise,” he snapped, uneasy about this new feeling he was feeling. Whatever it was, he did not care for it.</p><p>
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</p><p>He sprayed Sir Clorox’s tiny army across Guillermo’s room, hoping any airborne germs would crumble to the ground like the pitiful villages he had conquered before coming to Staten Island. Alas, he couldn’t hear their screams, as he assumed germs were quite small and their voices weakened by the chemicals wafting through the room. After a few more passes, he felt that he’d killed 99.9% of the germs, just as Human John had promised, and he crushed it in his hand before tossing it to the side. </p><p>His housemates would be safe, and Guillermo could stop being so infuriatingly sick soon. If there were no germs left to infect him, he could go back to being a productive familiar once more.</p><p>“Guillermo!” Nandor yelled out to the hallway where his snotty-faced familiar was waiting, shivering underneath Nandor’s cape and holding the medicine he’d pulled from the bag. “I conquered the germs!”</p><p>He brought him back into the room, and Guillermo nodded, sniffling. “Thank you, Maste—”</p><p>He cut himself off with a sneeze, wiping his nose against the sleeve of his sweater. Nandor grimaced, taking a step away from Guillermo and leaving him to his cloud of sneezy sickness.</p><p>"Euugh, Guillermo. That is not very hygienic. And I just cleaned the room!" he scolded. Nandor whispered to himself with a disgusted look on his face, “I had forgotten how leaky human bodies were.”</p><p>His familiar shuffled over to the bed, sitting down and tilting his head back slightly. Nandor rushed out of the room before Guillermo sneezed once again, likely into his cape.</p><p>“Fucking guy,” he whispered, taking a little hand sanitizer bottle from his coat pocket. He had seen it at the mall last Halloween and had to have it, a red-colored jelly substance that was purported to smell like vampire’s blood (it didn’t, but he couldn’t tell Guillermo that it wasn’t accurate. They had argued about it in the Body and Bath Corporation for some time. Then they fought about the name of the store they were in. Eventually, Nandor had won both arguments because he was relentless. Also, Guillermo had given up on bothering to correct him. Either way, he could not admit he was wrong, because then he’d have to throw out three bottles of the stuff as a matter of principle). </p><p>While Nandor had made good on saving it for special occasions, he doused his hands in the solution and scrubbed it into his skin. Just to be safe, he patted the excess that wouldn’t absorb against his face. His beard was simply a forest for the germs to hide in, and he wouldn’t let them sneak up on him like that. </p><p>He could hear Guillermo shuddering and sniffling, sounding like a pathetic little shrew as Nadja would say. It was a shame. Nandor had just cleaned himself up, and now he felt like the kind thing to do was to return to the room and ask what he could do to get Guillermo to stop shaking and making those unappetizing noises. Only then did Nandor remember the Campy Bell's, five whole cans of chicken soup he’d scooped into his metal shopping basket and left slumped in a bag on the floor outside of his bedroom. </p><p>Nandor had once heard from a wise old woman selling books that chicken soup could be good for the soul. Perhaps it could also be good at stopping Guillermo from complaining all night. </p><p>Nandor ducked out of the bedroom and plucked a can from the brown bag. He squinted, trying to read the minuscule characters on the back of the can that instructed how to prepare it. “<i>Eugh,</i>” he muttered to himself, running his finger beneath a line of text. He knew how to read, so why did this text seem like gibberish? (Guillermo would later inform him that it was Spanish).</p><p>The kitchen was a gloomy, dark little room situated towards the back of the house. Only Guillermo actually used it. Nandor wasn’t even sure he’d seen it in the past two hundred years, besides in passing glances. Warily, he looked over the sprawl of cupboards, drawers, and metal appliances, uncertain whether or not he trusted any of them near his fingers.</p><p>When Nandor shook the can, he heard liquid sloshing around inside. After yanking open every single drawer and cupboard, he eventually found a straw and a knife. It was a sharp one. Not as sharp as a proper weapon, but it would work well in a pinch. Nandor set the can on the counter, held the knife aloft, and plunged it into the lid of the can. Recklessly, he cut across the top, struggling with a little tab situated on the edge before tossing both pieces to the floor. </p><p>The can smelled repugnant, but if it would cure Guillermo, he’d have to put up with it. Perhaps Nadja’s cures weren’t completely unfounded. The wing of a vengeful crow mixed with yak’s milk was sounding more appetizing by the second. </p><p>He plopped the straw into the can and triumphantly walked back to Guillermo’s bedroom under the stairs. When he threw the curtain open, his familiar looked over to him. His delirious state could explain why he was smiling, as no reasonable person would want to eat this foul-smelling concoction.</p><p>“Guillermo! I’ve prepared the Campy Bell's!” He put on a cheerful tone, hoping that would make the soup’s rancid flavour more tolerable. </p><p>He placed the can in Guillermo’s hand, standing back and watching encouragingly as he examined the contents, a few stray worms floating in a cloudy yellow-ish liquid. Humans didn’t eat bugs, did they? The man in the <i>Lost Boys</i> film didn’t enjoy eating insects very much, but perhaps these worms were a delicacy.</p><p>“Did you heat this up?” Guillermo asked, stirring the soup with the straw.</p><p>“If they wanted me to heat it up they would have made the instructions clearer,” Nandor replied, folding his arms. “Please just eat it. I want you to stop being sick now.”</p><p>Guillermo frowned slightly, forgoing the straw for simply gulping back a mouthful, producing a pained sound as he swallowed it. He nodded, looking back up to Nandor and pretending he could tolerate the tepid soup. “It’s very good, Master.”</p><p>“Oh, you poor thing,” he said quietly. Guillermo's sense of taste must have been truly abysmal to find enjoyment in something as disgusting as this. Guillermo cocked his head to one side inquisitively, but Nandor did not repeat himself. Guillermo had to practice his listening skills. Luckily for him, he had spent years with a vampire who tended to mutter under his breath when feelings got involved.</p><p>Nandor watched him eat the entire can of wormy gloop, delighted when he finished the entire thing. Guillermo was very brave for eating the healing worms. He didn’t take note of Guillermo’s progressively green face, or the groaning and churning of his stomach.</p><p>“Do you feel better now? Human John said this would heal you, and if it didn’t…” He’d go back to the VCS and deal with him if he had lied about the effectiveness of the canned soup. Traitorous, delicious Human John would rue the day he tried to make a fool out of Nandor the Relentless! He would storm the VCS and pillage them. Forget their limit of five! And, he would… well… he would write a strongly worded note addressed to Human John’s employer! And then he’d eat him for good measure, as he had originally intended to do.</p><p>Meanwhile, Guillermo’s struggle to keep his food down had reached its peak. Tossing the can aside, he scrambled out of the room to the downstairs bathroom. Nandor followed him, though he regretted it when he heard him retching into the toilet. Either he was expelling the foul humours from his body or, more likely, the Campy Bell's had made him sicker.</p><p>Why would Human John lie to him? It seemed cruel that he’d scam him like this. Lies-all, indeed.</p><p>“Guillermo!” Nandor called, fighting back the panic in his voice. “Did the worms in the Campy Bell's make you sick?”</p><p>“The noodles?” Guillermo called from inside the bathroom. “No, I just think—” There was a long pause, punctuated by loud bouts of gagging. “My stomach can’t really handle any food right now.” </p><p>“Are you making a messy toilet again? Please don’t eat your sick up, Guillermo.” There was no response. "Should I... Can I come in there?"</p><p>There was the sound of the toilet flushing. Hesitantly, Nandor turned the doorknob and let himself into the room. </p><p>“Master, please don’t—”</p><p>It was too late. Guillermo was sitting hunched over on the tile floor, his flushed cheek pressed against the cold porcelain toilet seat. </p><p>“Oh, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured comfortingly. He grabbed a nearby broom and gently patted Guillermo’s back with it. “There, there,” he pronounced, stroking his familiar’s spine with the bristles. </p><p>“Th-thank you, Master,” Guillermo said weakly, stunned by this odd show of affection. “I think I’m okay now. But may I have a glass of water?”</p><p>Nandor sucked his teeth. Only because his familiar was so ill would he ever think to wait on him like a servant. He grabbed one of the paper Dizzy cups that Guillermo had purchased for his tooth brushing and filled it with cold water from the tap. Guillermo took it from him gratefully, hands shaking only a little. Their hands brushed and Nandor was shocked at how warm he was. Were the germs lighting little fires inside Guillermo’s body? Burning houses certainly had been an effective way to pillage villages back in Al Quolanudar. </p><p>Guillermo took small sips from the cup until it was empty, at which point he dropped it in the general direction of the garbage can.</p><p>"Better?" Nandor asked.</p><p>“I think so, but... Ugh,” Guillermo groaned, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“My clothes,” he muttered, letting his head fall back down to rest on his arm. “They’re all damp and sweaty and throw-up...y.” </p><p>Nandor grimaced. “<i>Yeeech.</i>” He thought of adding a <i>fucking guy</i> as well, but decided to refrain, considering how ill Guillermo was. </p><p>While Nandor had never taken care of his numerous children, he suspected that cleaning up after them would have been a bit similar to this, just on a larger scale. Departing the bathroom momentarily, Nandor had to search through Guillermo’s wardrobe to find something comfortable for him to wear after he’d gotten sweat and sick on his other clothes. He gathered some pajamas and brought them to the bathroom, placing them in the sink’s basin and unknowingly dampening them. </p><p>“I’ll leave you to dress yourself, Guillermo.” Nandor started to step out, but he worried that his sickly, weak familiar would slip on the tile and crack his head open. “Unless, you need some assistance…?” he asked hesitantly. </p><p>Every night, Guillermo helped him into and out of his clothes, but never did he imagine it the other way around. The thought of seeing more than just Guillermo’s bare arms sent a strange thrill down his spine. He shook himself. This was not the time for such thoughts!</p><p>“That’s alright, I can manage,” Guillermo breathed, making a meager attempt to lift his hand toward the bottom of his sweater. It flopped back down into his lap.</p><p>Nandor frowned in sympathy. “Yes, it is all very well for you to try on your own, Guillermo, but it is clear you are having a time of it.” <i>Time.</i> Nandor spun around in the small room, looking for the wall clock. He sought out the tiny arms that would tell him whether or not he might be murdered by the sun. </p><p>“Come on, upsie-daisy on your feeties, now, Guillermo,” he said as if he were speaking to an especially adorable cat. It would soon be daylight, and he wanted to get his familiar safely to bed before he had to retire to his coffin and leave the poor, weak man all alone. </p><p>Guillermo moaned and struggled to his feet, before nearly toppling over. Only Nandor’s supernatural reflexes kept him from falling and cracking his head open on the toilet. “Perhaps I should carry you and you can change in your room?”</p><p>Guillermo weakly clung to Nandor, grinning like a dazed fool. “You feel so cool, Master,” he murmured feverishly, holding one of Nandor’s hands against the warm patch of skin at his throat. “S’nice.” </p><p>Nandor was taken aback by the brazen display of affection. Guillermo almost never touched him like this. He was glad that the camera crew had left, and none of the others were around to see it. </p><p>“Alright, up you get,” said Nandor, scooping Guillermo’s legs out from under him and lifting his body in his arms.</p><p>“Don’t drop me again, please,” Guillermo murmured, nuzzling even further into Nandor’s chest. </p><p>Nandor bristled. “Nonsense, that never happened! You hallucinated it.”</p><p>“But… you put me in the hospital. The hospital bills prove it.” </p><p><i>Oh.</i> Guillermo had been referring to the first instance of Nandor dropping him rather than the one that had happened earlier in the night. “Oh, well… Then don’t worry, Guillermo. I won’t drop you a second time. Because that is how many times I have dropped you on previous occasions. Just the once. The one time. Yes.”</p><p>Nandor remembered to fetch the pajamas from the sink on his way out of the bathroom, tossing them over his shoulder so he could keep both arms under Guillermo.</p><p>“Hey dudes,” said Colin Robinson, materializing behind them in the hallway. “I was just watching you guys in the bathroom, there.” </p><p>“Fucking guy!” Nandor jumped, nearly dropping Guillermo again. </p><p>“Wuh-oh!” Colin Robinson wagged his finger. “Don’t go tossing Guillermo for the second time tonight. Did you know that falls are the main cause of death in the elderly? Of course, Guillermo isn’t 65 or older, but in his vulnerable state, that might put his physical age somewhere in the 50s. Not very safe to keep dropping him, if you ask me. Which you already did. Earlier tonight.”</p><p>Nandor hissed at him. “That never happened!”</p><p>“Go away, Colin Robinson,” Guillermo moaned. “My physical age is 40 at the most.”</p><p>“Laszlo and Nadja just sent me over here to get a status report. And, you know, I figured I’d lend a hand if needed. But it seems like you’ve got things under control.”</p><p>“That’s right,” Nandor hissed. “I have got things under control here, so if you could just return to your underground dwelling…” He began to make a shooing motion, before belatedly remembering that he was still holding Guillermo. </p><p>“Wow,” Colin Robinson replied. “Well, I guess I’ll report back to Nadja and Laszlo now, since you’ve got it in hand here.”</p><p>“Go. Away,” Nandor snarled, pushing past Colin Robinson to carry Guillermo to his depressing room under the stairs. </p><p>The smell of Campby Bell’s still lingered slightly in the enclosed space. Nandor was a little concerned his familiar might get sick again, but if he could only faintly smell it even with his heightened vampiric senses, then there was no way Guillermo could pick up on it. For now, he’d be fine. The only other option was incense, and that was probably too much for Guillermo’s senses to handle, so he simply brought him back to his bed. </p><p>Nandor carefully laid him down, his fingers getting squished between Guillermo and the mattress. Withdrawing them quickly, he pulled the covers back over Guillermo’s body before remembering the pajamas once again.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Guillermo mumbled, brushing him off, but Nandor wouldn’t let him.</p><p>“No, you’re going to be comfy-cozy! You don’t want to sleep in sweaty, sick clothing.” Nandor shuddered. “Very unhygienic.” He threw the pajamas down on the bed and slipped one hand under Guillermo’s mid-back, the other underneath his thighs. He was starting to get better at lifting Guillermo. It made him feel a bit proud.</p><p>Nandor made quick work of taking off Guillermo’s clothes, trying hard not to look at Guillermo’s more delicate bits. He noticed that Guillermo’s skin was still flushed and hot to the touch, and swallowed down a pang of thirst at how red and delicious Guillermo looked. It was so hard to look at Guillermo, especially like this...not because he didn’t want to look at him, but because each time he looked at him, he wanted him that much more. If he had only eaten Human John, maybe the temptation wouldn’t be so bad now. Then Nandor remembered that Guillermo was riddled with disease and was instantly turned off of the idea of eating him.</p><p>He wondered why Guillermo was still feverish, despite the work of Sir Motown. Wait! In his rush to disinfect the room, Nandor had forgotten to administer the medication. He quickly finished dressing Guillermo and fished around in the VCS bags for one of the medicine bottles. </p><p>“Aw,” Guillermo said, smiling slightly and taking the bottle from him. “This stuff reminds me of my <i>Abuelita.</i> She used to give it to us any time we felt sick.” Guillermo struggled with the lid before shaking out two pills. He wished he had some water, but didn’t think it was a good idea to ask again, so he popped them into his mouth and dry swallowed them with a slight grimace.</p><p>“You should also use ice to bring down his temperature!” Colin Robinson called from somewhere outside Guillermo’s room. Still eavesdropping. Fucking guy.</p><p>Nandor didn’t know where the ice was, or if they even had any in the house. He could get some dirty snow from outside, but that wasn’t nice. He’d heard of ice boxes, but he doubted they had one. Wouldn’t it melt in the summer? </p><p>“We don’t have ice,” Guillermo said tiredly, before Nandor could even open his mouth to ask. “Freezer doesn’t work.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“It’s fine. I don’t really need it,” he said, as a chill betrayed him. He was lying down now, the covers tucked all the way up underneath his chin. Guillermo shoved them off, sweat beading on his forehead despite the shivers. </p><p>“No, Guillermo,” Nandor chastised, returning the blankets. “You need the blankets to keep you toasty and warm!” </p><p>“But it’s so hot,” Guillermo groaned. “And so cold. Hot and cold,” he murmured, trailing off. His eyes fluttered closed.</p><p>Nandor braved the germs to place his hand on Guillermo’s forehead. That was a thing humans did when they were sick, right? </p><p>Guillermo gave a happy sigh. “Oh, you did find ice. Thank you, Master,” he said muzzily.</p><p>Another light bulb went off in Nandor’s dark, cavernous mind. His body was always cold, one of the many ‘perks’ of being undead.</p><p>“Does that feel good, Guillermo?” Nandor asked, shifting his hand from Guillermo’s forehead to his cheek. </p><p>Guillermo nuzzled against Nandor’s open palm. “Yes, Master,” he said dreamily. </p><p>Nandor froze as Guillermo scooted ever closer to the source of coolness—his own body. The flush was not contained to Guillermo’s face. No, his entire figure was hot to the touch, bleeding through his clothes in a way that must have been deeply uncomfortable. Leaving him now, without his source of ‘ice,’ would be cruel, Nandor decided. And while Nandor may have been relentless, he wasn’t cruel. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Either way, it would be cruel, and he did not want to be cruel. Especially not to Guillermo.</p><p>“Guillermo?”</p><p>“Mmmm.” The half-conscious man held tightly to Nandor, trying to draw relief from him.</p><p>“Shall I stay with you?”</p><p>Guillermo made a noise of assent, which effectively sealed his fate. Nandor wasn’t going to be sleeping in his own coffin today. No, he would be sleeping right here with Guillermo. His familiar.</p><p>Nandor had already shed his cape earlier when he’d given it to Guillermo as a makeshift blanket. Now, he shrugged out of his fox fur vest, letting it drop from his wrists to the floor below. He hoped that the thin silk shirt that remained on him would not be too warm for Guillermo to tolerate, as removing it seemed like a step too far, one he wasn’t ready to take just yet.</p><p>Gingerly, Nandor shifted until he lay on top of the blankets, wrapping an arm around Guillermo’s frame. The springs of the cot groaned underneath their combined weight, but the bed held. Guillermo sighed contentedly and buried himself in Nandor's cool embrace. </p><p>It was becoming clear that Nandor hadn’t thought this plan entirely through. He certainly hadn’t taken into account the feeling of Guillermo’s body pressed against his, the soft warmth and delectable smell of him, only slightly soured by the lingering stench of regurgitated Campy Bell's. He could get used to this, if he wasn't careful. </p><p>Curling his arm just a bit tighter around his familiar's middle, Nandor watched Guillermo breathe deeply, his round features growing slack as the feverish exhaustion overtook him. Nandor had never had the opportunity to watch Guillermo sleep before, and thought his soft noises and untroubled expression rather endearing. Despite his familiar’s poor state, his presence was strangely comforting, and Nandor was surprised to find that sleep was already beginning to creep over him as well—though, it <i>had</i> been a very busy evening. </p><p>“Guillermo, you are getting a demerit point for this,” he murmured sleepily. His words came out sickeningly affectionate. “Making me run all about the city… making me sleep on this lumpy mattress instead of in my comfy coffin… it is very annoying.” </p><p>“Hm, okay,” Guillermo agreed, half-asleep himself. </p><p>Nandor reached out hesitantly and brushed the back of his hand against Guillermo’s flaming cheek. </p><p>“Goodnight, Guillermo,” he murmured, allowing his eyes to flicker shut. “I will need you to be rid of this plague by tomorrow night. I cannot be seen taking care of you again. It goes against the Code of the Vampire.” He paused, drifting off. “Oh, and when you feel up to it, you must accompany me as I destroy the VCS on Page Street. Excluding Human John... because he gave me stuff on top of the house… But don’t worry… it isn’t actually on top of the house.”</p><p>Guillermo didn’t stir, now truly asleep. He answered Nandor’s commands with a soft snore.</p><p>“Oh, you’re already asleep. It’s not very nice to fall asleep when I am planning a pillage, Guillermo. One more demerit point for you.” Nandor yawned widely and allowed himself one more sleepy gaze at his familiar before reaching for his cape. He draped it over himself to cover his face, mimicking the peaceful darkness his coffin lid provided, and finally drifted off to sleep.</p>
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